


It's Called Validation

by Tin_Can_Iron_Man



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-12-21 02:54:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11934828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tin_Can_Iron_Man/pseuds/Tin_Can_Iron_Man
Summary: (Validation(noun): Recognition or affirmation that a person or their feelings or opinions are valid and worthwhile.)*In which the Avengers are back together and Tony has a surprising new ally. Or maybe more...*(IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS IS NOT ANTI-CAP OR ANTI-STEVE, HE IS MISUNDERSTANDING AND WAS PART OF THE PROMPT)(SIDE IMPORTANT NOTE: Overall, I still would like to say that this, and I, AM NOT ANTI-CAP OR ANTI-STEVE, but some writing in here might make you think otherwise, you have been warned.)So the Avengers were back together.Okay, that was a lie, The avengers were “together” technically. As in all in the same place. The Avengers compound. Stark had, amazingly, accepted all of “Rogue Avengers” back. This time, however, he had rules, well, one rule really. A note was written taped onto the door when Steve and company arrived:“Dear Jackasses,





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [her_royal_shyness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_royal_shyness/gifts).



> so this was a prompt given to me by my friend. It was initially meant to be just some sort of one shot but as I kept writing I kept thinking and now it's going to be a multi-chapter fic.

So the Avengers were back together.

 

Okay, that was a lie, The avengers were “together” technically. As in all in the same place. The Avengers compound. Stark had, amazingly, accepted all of “Rogue Avengers” back. This time, however, he had rules, well, one rule really. A note was written taped onto the door when Steve and company arrived:

 

_“Dear Jackasses,_

 

_Tony Stark will be perfectly willing and content to pay for whatever the fuck you guys want to do, He will gladly pay for your food, housing, equipment, repairs, and anything else needed as long as you follow this one rule. I personally wouldn’t be so kind, but Tones a nice guy like that. And honestly, I’m glad as hell that he decided he wished to establish this rule, you ungrateful and or uneducated fucks that decided fighting a mentally unstable and exhausted man would be better than having an actual civil fucking conversation. And don’t give me that “but he attacked after he found out his parents were, you know, fucking murdered.” wow, he attacked after he found out his parents were murdered? What a villain.”_

 

 _Okay,_ so Tony didn’t seem to have written this note, and with Stark being referred to as “Tones” Steve knew it was Rhodes. And Rhodes seemed….Irate. It had been months, and Stark _had agreed_ to house all of the Avengers again. Having rules didn’t seem like too bad of an idea. If it wasn’t a dictatorship. As long as it kept Stark in check as much as everyone else.

 

Steve kept reading.

 

_“Ready for the fucking rule? We’re not giving you a choice to agree to it since some people seem to have a hard time understanding they’re accountable for breaking the rules, not Tony for enforcing them because he’s just a guy trying to be on the right side of the fucking law.”_

 

Steve closed his eyes for a second and sighed. It wouldn’t even be noticeable other than those who are enhanced near him. So Bucky and Wanda. Steve remembered when Stark had said _“If we don’t agree to it now, It’ll be done to us later.”_ Is this what he meant? Of course not. Tony was talking about the accords. He hadn’t even known then. Known _the truth_. But it still flashed in Steve's mind while reading this. What is Stark going to make them do? The worst possibilities flashed through Steve's mind. Maybe being back at the compound, a place some of them called “Home.” once upon a time. Was actually just a glorified prison? Was actually Hell?

Steve read the last few lines of the note:

_“Here’s your one and only rule. The rule that must be followed AT ALL TIMES. “No exceptions,” as Tony put it “Unless the literal world is about to blow up if you don’t break it, which would be a stupid solution. But there have been dumber baddies.”_

 

Steve gasped at the last line. How were they expected to follow that?

 

**_“You are not permitted to talk to Tony Stark unless stated otherwise, ever.”_ **

 

…………………………

 

This was actually an easier “rule” to follow than Steve thought.

 

But it didn’t mean he wasn’t still upset.

 

He didn’t even see Stark all that often. If he wanted, or needed, to communicate with Stark, he would make a mention to Rhodes or Vision (or send a written message via F.R.I.D.A.Y. But it could take Stark days or even weeks to check that inbox). It was noted very quickly that Vision was the less hostile of the two. Rhodes wouldn’t look at you, he would look through you. And his mouth would twitch in annoyance at the mention of Stark's name. He made it very clear he didn’t care about what they had to say. It was impressive for a man who couldn’t walk properly without his friends tech to be so intimidating to even a super soldier, but Rhodes managed to pull it off. Even if Rhodes was more difficult, Steve had always been told the messages were always successfully passed on, with a bit more profanity on Rhodes part, if what Vision said was true.

 

When Steve and the others _did_ see Tony Stark. He would never open his mouth. He even breathed only through his nose around them. Steve didn’t know why the little details like that bothered him so much, but it did. _It just seemed so petty._

 

Even with what happened, it had nearly been a year since that fight. Steve was half convinced that Stark was just doing it to do it, or to try to make Steve feel like an ass, which he already does himself. at this point. He tried to shake the thoughts of Ton-- _Stark_ out of his head and continued to finally start unpacking.

_But he couldn’t._

Rather, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Stark looked at them when they were all unfortunatally together. Unlike Rhodes, who would look through them, Stark stared right into Steve's soul. With the same look, never opening his mouth, Steve hadn’t even seen a change in expression on Stark since they moved back in. His eyes were so damn calculating and so damn cold. And it chilled Steve to the core. Every time he makes eye contact with Stark, all he can imagine is what he was thinking,

 

_You betrayed me. You were my friend. I trusted you. I trusted you with my life, with my damn life Steve, and look what you did. I wasn’t even surprised when you finally did it. Nearly everyone else close to me does. You betrayed me. You asked me to trust you would catch me when I fell, then you stabbed me in the back, or rather, ripped my heart to pieces, when I fell the hardest. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t surprised. I was still hurt at your betrayal. You betrayed me you betrayed me you betrayed me you betrayed--_

Steve suddenly realized he was trashing the room. The bed broken in half, any kind of wooden furniture was in splinters, and there were several dents and holes in the wall. Steve was immediately thankful for choosing such a secluded room, or else he would probably have injured or, at the very least, ruined the night of either Sam or Clint. At first he couldn’t believe that he managed not to notice doing that, he was so focused on Stark.

_Fucking Stark._

 

……….…………………………

 

 _What the hell was he doing here?_ Was practically going in a constant loop through his mind.

He’s not entirely sure what to call himself. His friends calls him Bucky, but any memories of “Bucky”, or any stories heard of “Bucky”, they feel like the tales of a dead man, technically he was dead. James feels too intimate. James makes him feel uncomfortable. It feels like a name only those very close to him should call him but it was still better than _Bucky._ The Winter Soldier was a definite no-no. Like hell he would want to be called that. Like hell he would want to be reminded of those he remembers killing, and those he doesn’t, and the lab and the torture and the hurt and the agony and the pain and the--Yep, that settles it, Winter Soldier is a _definite no-no. (It was the only one worse than Bucky)_

Barnes just sounded stupid, why would anyone want to think of a smelly horse stable when they say his name? (and yet, _It was still better than bucky._ )

Why do names matter so much anyway? Can’t he change it to something _he_ wants to be called? What’s the purpose of names? It’s to identify a person yes, but there are two James here now anyway. The man who fell. Who has the weird shiny device that helps him walk (The man doesn’t use James anyway, It's some strange R name he’s only heard once or twice). But he can’t be called James, The...he’s just going to call it TWS for now. TWS brings too much pain. Barnes is stupid. And _Bucky,_ he would never say it out loud...but he truly hated that name. He doesn’t have any idea what to call himself. So he’s been referring to himself as other do when it's not those names. “He.” Of course he knows it’s not a good name. Of course it couldn’t be permanent. But it was what he could call himself before he thought of something--anything--better.

Oh, he got distracted again. His mind is sometimes so wobbly, so distorted, that the smallest thought can turn into a large tangent. That’s what happens when HYDRA gets to fuck up your brain for 70 years. It took a while, but he fought and he won against that part of his mind. But he can feel it in the shadows, waiting for him to let his guard down. To hear some sort of trigger word. To take back over.

 

_He will never let that happen again. He will never go back._

 

 _What the Hell was he doing here?_ He thinks when he wakes up in a more than decently cozy bed and a sturdy structure above his head. _What the Hell was he doing here?_ When he gets into a shower and the water isn’t frigid and practically piercing his skin. _What the Hell was he doing here?_ When he’s allowed out of his room without an escort that pokes and prods him to go faster, then bashes at him for going too fast. _What the Hell was he doing here?_ In a far too fancy and nice location for his expectations, where he can basically do whatever he wants. _What the Hell was he doing here?_ When he’s shown an inkling of human decency after being so deprived of it for so, so damn long. _What the Hell was he doing here?_ He thinks when he remembers how far from his--no-- _Buckys_ \--past life was. How he and Bucky we’re once the same person. How he should have died with him when they fell off that train. _What the Hell was he doing here?_

 

But the worst was the man his friend calls “Stark” with a slight disdain in his voice and a hard look on his face. And a hint of regret in his eyes.

 

The man called Stark who he took the family of, and didn’t even fucking remember. The man called Stark who looked so hurt, so betrayed by his friend. When he asked a simple question “Did you know?” and how his friend, Steve, tried to defend himself and him. By stating he didn’t know it was him. The man called Stark who in a fit of rage, and pain, and sorrow, attacked him. The man who said he “was” his friend, Steve’s, friend. “Was” as in a past fact. He didn’t blame him, if he remembered more about his mother than he could scrape together by his own distorted mind and the stories his friend Steve told him. He would have been just as angry, and just as out for blood.

So Barnes didn’t blame him.

Barnes didn’t blame him for not wanting to talk to him. To anyone who helped turn on him.

It wasn’t his place.

It wasn’t his place to judge. To blame.

It just wasn’t his place.

 

…………………..

 

Of course Anthony Stark would have nightmares. Of course he would wake in a pitch black room in a cold sweat drenched through and through because of course he had a nightmare. And of course it would be about them. Them and their “team” his “team.”

_“Team” what a joke._

Of course he’s had thousands of nightmares before. Of course he’s began to recognize when he was dreaming. It didn’t help one damn bit though.

 

The worst part about having an eidetic memory is that you can remember every damn little detail about how your parents were murdered.

 

The worst is having nightmares about things you’ve seen, things you’ve experienced.

Tony Stark would have nightmares about space, and falling, and drowning and being back in that cave and everything up to that point had been a dream, where there was no Yinsen or no hope of escape. He would have nightmares about the team, nightmares about his vision of them all dead, and Tony the only one still standing. With their cold and dead eyes that say _“it’s all your fault.”_ He would have nightmares about Ultron. He would have nightmares about Rhodes fall. He would have nightmares about the fight, and Steve, his once ally and friend, deciding to kill him instead.

He would have nightmares about being in that car.

He would have nightmares of being helplessly strung in the backseat before the crash. Trying, in a least one form, to save his parents. He would scream and cry and shout and beg but it never worked, every time he would watch as his mother--oh god, his mother--turn her head to look at him and say “Tony, what are you talking abou--” She never got to finish her sentence. Not once. He would watch as his father was dragged out of the front seat, watched as he begged to spare his wife and son. He would scream when he saw that damn hand intent on coiling around his mother's neck. He would untangle himself and leap out screaming about not touching a damn hair on her head and then he would watch the rest out of his body that had hit the cold December ground, dead.

He would watch out of his own body, now even more powerless. As his parents screamed. After all, this man just murdered their only child. He would watch as the scene played out perfectly from there, his mother and then his father. Killed by the man who had the same face that he allowed into his home.

 

He doesn’t blame Barnes for it anymore anyway. He knows it was Mr. Winter Douchebag, not Barnes. Of course he would be angry in that moment, he would be in pain and he found out that the great Captain America, the righteous Steve Rogers, a teammate and Anthony Stark could even consider “friend”, not only knew, but had known for years and betrayed his trust. And of course, Anthony Stark realized that didn’t make what happened next okay. He messed up, he messed up like he always does. And it took time, but he doesn’t blame Barnes for what happened anymore.

That didn’t mean he wanted to talk to them though.

That didn’t mean his throat didn’t clench up at the very thought of them. That the sight of them set off all of the alarms in his head and caused his heart to pound nearly out of his chest. He didn’t know what talking to them would do to him. He assumed the best he would be able to hope for was a panic attack, which was bad in its own right. Or he could get so riled up that it triggered a cardiac arrest. Which was actually a very real possibility given his condition related to his heart. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he did suddenly double over around them. He thinks it would be a stretch to say they wouldn’t help. Or at least ask what was wrong. But, he didn’t want to take any chances. He had too much work to do.

…. _Work…_

That’s something he can do, something that can take his mind off of everything. He could work. Working is good. Working...helps.

Of course that’s what he would’ve done if he had ever made it down there.

Tony’s room was one of the furthest rooms from the lab, so he wasn’t tempted when he woke up during nightmares to walks all the way over to the other side of the compound.

 

_Note to self:  the “room changing will lessen lab time and quit Rhodey’s nagging” hypothesis proved incorrect. Change of room was overall ineffective and honestly a pain in my ass._

 

The way to the lab was also way too inconvenient to get to from this room. The quickest way was to cut through the general kitchen. Nobody is usually there, they usually choose to cook or eat in some of the other ones spread around the compound, usually the ones closest to their own rooms or training rooms. All of which are far, far away from Tony Stark, on purpose.

He could grab some coffee grinds. Coffee sounded good. Coffee was familiar and safe. Tony didn’t really need it, he was awake enough already. But that didn’t stop him from planning on making the detour.

He froze at the entrance of the kitchen.

Barnes was there. Sitting on the counter. His usual blank face was bent into slight hints of several emotions when he saw Tony staring at him. Surprise,nervousness, embarrassment, shame,...guilt, sorrow. He lifted his mouth open a sliver, then stopped. Because of _the rule._

It’s amazing to say but, surprisingly, Barnes triggered him the least. Of course Tony knew he could be, maybe even should be, the biggest trigger. Tony Stark knew that Barnes should scare him. But Barnes just...didn’t.

_There's something seriously wrong with me, isn’t there?_

Tony stared at Barnes. Barnes stared right back. Neither said anything. One wasn’t even allowed to. But the more silence there was the more Tony almost felt the need to break it. He eventually gathered enough of his courage to open his mouth.

“Okay, here’s the deal. You don’t talk, you listen, you don’t speak, you take time to register what I’m going to say and you _fucking understand._ Capiche? Capiche.” This was the most talking Tony has done to or even around Barnes since he got here. But Tony wasn’t scared, he wasn’t done either.

He was fucking insane but he knew that anyway.

Barnes didn’t break eye contact. And nodded very slightly. So slightly Tony almost didn’t notice, but he did.

“First of all…” Damn, Tony didn’t think he’d get this far. Well, improvising was Anthony Starks  specialty. So it was time for him to prove that. “First of all…” Tony bit his lip, then sighed. Barnes held an inkling of a fleeting emotion of concern.

_Here goes nothing, actually here goes everything._

And Tony Stark said what he wanted to tell James Buchanan Barnes ever since he got here.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“First of all I don’t hate you.”

 

He was taken aback by the other man's words. He...he had...TWS had…robbed him of his family. Robbed him of a life he could have had. And he knew exactly how that felt. The anger, the resentment, the feeling of vengeance. How could Stark not hate him? How could…

 

“Rather, I don’t hate _you_ .” The man called Stark was still talking, which was surreal in of itself. “I don’t hate the guy sitting in front of me. Hell I’m not even _afraid_ of _you._ ” Stark nearly cracked a smile, then realized what that implied, that he was afraid of the others, and his face crumpled. “I..uh..shit..uh..Oh nevermind.” Stark pinched his nose and his breath hitched. His other hand stayed by his side and started shaking ever so softly. He knew what those signs were, Stark was anxious, or scared about something. Was it something he had done? Wait...That was a stupid question. The man called Stark had plenty of reason to be afraid of him. He had done horrible, horrible things to innocent people. Some were even very close to Stark. Of course he would be afraid of him.

 

But still, why did he say _that?_

 

He never wanted, or even really thought about, breaking that rule before, but now it’s all he wanted to do. Stark was still shaking but his breath was calmer, yet still slightly ragged. He wouldn’t have even noticed without his enhanced sight and hearing. He wanted to offer some form of comfort or encouragement. Some small sentence like “it’s okay.” or “go on.” but Stark looked ready to jump out of his skin without his input, which he specifically stated he didn’t want. He was afraid if he said anything Stark might run away. He didn’t want to scare him. Even if, technically, he already was just by sitting there. So he did the next best thing he could think of.

 

He tried to smile.

 

It was hard to remember how to smile actually. He’d seen it enough times around his friend Steve and Steve’s friends to understand how to copy it. Copying the effect was another story. Stark gave him an odd look. But it seemed to have distracted him enough to calm down.

 

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re trying to do but you’re obviously uncomfortable doing it, and honestly I’m a little freaked out seeing it so I’m going to have to ask you to stop,” Stark spoke once again. “And, I’m not afraid of you _or_ them, it just came out that way.” He knew it was a lie. And he thinks Stark knew he knew, but didn’t say anything else on the matter.

 

Stark tried to speak again, and after a few false starts, he finally got some words out of his mouth. “I… anyway, that’s all I wanted to say, well actually it’s not, it’s nowhere near all I wanted to say but it’s all I’m going to say.” He rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “Uh, I guess I’m going to go back…?” Stark stood around awkwardly for another second or so, before taking a step in the direction he came from. Then stopped.

 

“And one more thing, if that…. _atrocity…_ of a facial expression was meant to be you faking a smile, you have to squint your eyes. Smiling is as much in the eyes as in the mouth.” Stark showed him. He showed him a smile so close to real it made his chest hurt that Stark knew how to do it so well. It wasn’t a very toothy grin, but his mouth was open, and his eyes were squinted, he looked like he was a photo some photographer took of him while he was in the middle of laughing. He looked good, he looked...happy. Then Stark loosened his face again, offered an awkward wave to serve as a goodbye, and left him there alone.

 

Left him there with the jolting realization that Tony Stark wasn’t happy at all.

 

He wasn’t happy one bit.

 

Even when he smiled.

 

…………………………

  


“Wait, so you’re telling me that not only did you have a weird secret confrontation thing with Barnes, but you also gave him tips on how to smile?” The amount of disbelief in Rhodeys voice was not lost on Tony.

 

“Technically it wasn’t a confrontation, I just said something I wanted him to know.” Tony’s head was in his hands and was sitting directly across from Rhodes in the same kitchen he and Barnes, well, _he._ Talked in last night. “Then I said something I wanted him to know about smiling, if you’re an assassin whose job could ever result in undercover work you should at least know how to fake a damn smile.”

 

“Huh.” Rhodey sounded unimpressed. “But I thought the whole no talking thing was about Barnes?”

 

Tony threw his head back “I thought so to but _apparently not._ ” He groaned. “I guess the rule had been more about the others.” He remembered accidentally letting it slip he was afraid of the others. Which he was not. _He was not afraid of the others,_ **_He was not afraid of the others._ **

 

“Or it had been more about Steve,” Rhodey speculated. “But you’re still keeping the rule right? I’m worried about you Tones, especially since I can’t always be here.”

“Jesus, Rhodey, you don’t have to be my protector. I’m not some scared little kid that needs protection from the bullies. _I’m fucking Iron Man._ ” Tony paused for a moment. “And of course the rule stays, I have a one-sided chat with one guy and everything's hunky-dory? No way.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t believe in your abilities Tones. It’s that I don’t trust what those guys will do with theirs.” Rhodey took a long sip of coffee. Then said “And I know better than anyone just because you’re _“fucking Iron Man”_ doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings, or can't get hurt.”

 

“Rhodey?”

“Yeah?”

“Even though I said that, will you...uhh…”

“Spit it out, Tones.”

“Will you still keep giving them the _“I fucking hate you and will murder your whole family if given the chance_ ” glare?”

“Oh Tony,” Rhodey covered his smile with his hand and tried his best to conduct himself as completely serious. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

 

……………………….

 

Eavesdropping became one of the biggest unintentional habits for Steve Rogers since he had returned to the Avengers compound. Whenever he sensed Stark coming or his presence in a room, he would unintentionally hide himself nearby and listen for his voice. It bothered him that he didn’t know what was going on inside his mind, what he was thinking. And it bothered him that it bothered him. He made his choice a long time ago. But it didn’t mean he didn’t _care_ about Stark. Of course he cared. He was technically Ton--Starks friend, _was._ But Stark was wrong and Steve was right.

...Right?

Steve sighed. This, this is why he is so annoyed by Tony Stark. He doesn’t have to talk to you. He doesn’t even have to look at you, or even be in the same room. But he convinces you, persuades you just by feeling his presence. A sort of presence that says “Take a step back and look at this my way and consider what I mean.” Steve has fought that presence for a long time. He’s still fighting it. He won’t just let Stark do whatever he pleases.

Stark was too arrogant, too impulsive, too reckless and overall too dangerous to be allowed that. He had nearly started the apocalypse with a computer glitch for christs sake. But it seemed only he and few others even remembered that fact.

And Stark still had the nerve to hum.

Right now, it was early evening, Stark was in his lab, and he had left the door open, just a crack. He was humming while he worked. Steve had never heard this song before, but it was slow and soft, not at all Starks style. It’s something he could imagine being played on a violin, or a piano. He would never expect a song like that to be enjoyed by Stark. Who liked the loud voices and the white noise and the booming drums and electric guitars. Who’s slowest song Steve had ever seen him like was quick and jazzy tune he danced to at an upscale party. Something was just...off about this. Stark didn’t like this kind of stuff, he found it boring, dull. He doesn’t care about things he finds boring. Why would he hum such a slow song?

Steve couldn’t think of a reason.

And it bothered him more than anything that he couldn’t ask.

 

…………………………

 

“So, what? Do you just like scaring the shit out of me at night?” Barnes was there again. He was sitting on a stool at the counter rather than on it this time, and it looked like he was having a hard time reading something scrawled on a piece of paper.

Barnes gazed at Tony blankly and shoved his head into his shoulder. This guy really needed to work on general body language. Or at least faking general body language. Tony took a few seconds but he understood he was trying to mimic confusion.

“No, I don’t want you to answer that. Don’t talk.” Tony debated just passing Barnes and continuing to his room after spending all day in the lab. But he decided against it. Instead he grabbed another stool and moved it to the other side of the counter. And plopped down. He didn’t say anything and after a few minutes of awkward silence, Barnes eyes moved back to the paper and he actually frowned. His normal, perfectly blank face looked even gloomier than usual, and maybe even...frustrated?

Tony couldn’t help it, he was always a curious person. He held out his hand and flicked his index finger in a ‘Give it here” motion. Barnes seemed to understand and delicately placed it in Tony Stark's hand. Tony read it and frowned.

“This is just instructions on how to use the coffee machine.” Tony waved the paper in the air. “Not anything too difficult to understand, if you can--” He stopped dead. Barnes seemed to go into a hyper-awareness mode as soon as he did. Watching Tony closely and barely even moving. Like Tony was some sort of frightened deer stuck in the headlights. Actually, that might be how he _looked_ right now but still.

Tony had to ask. He had to know because this was _important_.

“ _D-doyouknowhowtoread?_ ” Tony said it so quickly he didn’t even understand what he said very well, much less Barnes. Who again, shoved his head into his shoulder.

_Okay, Zippy, a little slower this time._

“Do-Do you know how to read?” Barnes frowned so quickly and intensely Tony nearly flinched on pure instinct, but he stopped himself. Barnes nodded. _At least he nods normally._ Tony stewed over his answer for a second and came to a possible conclusion.

“Uh, okay, too broad a question, here’s the re-do. Do you know how to read...English?” Tony glanced down at the note again, the writing was a little messy, but far from incomprehensible. Barnes frown stayed on his face, and he hesitated for a moment, before nodding once again.

Tony didn’t believe it. “Really?”

Barnes nodded.

Tony tapped the note with his finger. “But you can’t read this?”

Barnes paused. Then nodded stiffly.

Tony frowned, trying to process how that was possible.

Did he have a hard time seeing? No, impossible. There’s no way that could be the case. The serum would have fixed that if it was a problem before and he had already proven himself to be one of the best snipers on the planet. Only worse than Hawkeye and _maybe_ Natasha. Other possibilities ran through Anthony Stark's brain, but every idea ended up being counteracted with loads of evidence denying the theories.

Tony only had one option. Technically that wasn’t true. There were other options but they left Tony with not knowing what Barnes meant, and Tony Stark hates not knowing.

Tony took a deep breath, Rhodey was going to kill him, or Barnes, or both, probably both.

 

“Tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters aren't too long but I'm getting them out pretty quickly so there's that
> 
> (I keep leaving on cliffhangers oops)


	3. Chapter 3

Barnes looked shocked.

Well, of course he would look shocked, Tony Stark was breaking his one and only rule (which he stated only to do in _dire_ circumstances.) just to get an answer to a question.

 

Can you break your own rule if you’re the one who made it up?

 

It felt like he was breaking it anyway, probably because Rhodey isn’t going to be too happy to hear about this. Which he will, Tony Stark can’t hide anything from his Rhodey.

In other news, it was nice to see Barnes have a different expression on his face rather than “robot” blank or “My puppy just ran away.” gloomy. It was shock, in every sense Tony Stark could imagine. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide. His non-prosthetic hand was stuck halfway up in a “wait…” kind of motion. He obviously didn’t believe what he was hearing.

 

“Uh...Hello?” Tony snapped his fingers twice in Barnes face. “I uh, need you to...talk now.”

 

Silence. Nothing changed. Other than Tony's hand being stupidly close to Barnes face as he waved it in front of him. He just barely grazed his nose.

 

Huh, that was the first time he actually touched him.

 

(No, the fight **_did not_ ** count, He was in his armor anyway, and Tony wanted to forget the whole thing happened, but he can’t help the nightmares…)

 

Silence.

 

“Look, I can’t help you if you can’t tell me what’s wrong. That’s kinda how it works if I can’t figure it out myself, which is killing me that I can’t by the way.” He tried talking again, which seemed to catch Barnes attention better than anything else he tried. Noted.

 

Silence...again.

“Ba--”

“Uh--”

Why did Tony Stark have to have such bad timing?

“Sweet Jesus yes, tell me what the matter is.” Tony tried to save the conversation, if you could even call it that. “Speak please _God_.” Okay, not the most encouraging thing Tony Stark has even said.

 

But it did the trick.

 

“....It slips out sometimes…” The other man's voice was barely even a whisper, if Tony Stark hadn’t beein giving James Barnes his complete undivided attention, he would never have if noticed.

 

“What slips out? Reading?”

 

Barnes nodded.

 

“Words.”

 

“.....Yes.”

 

Oh, that made sense actually. Why didn’t Tony think of that?

 

Probably because he didn’t want to think of that.

 

 

Because that means HYDRA messed with this poor man's head so badly he sometimes forgets how to read his own _native fucking language_.

 

As if Tony Stark didn’t hate them enough for being goddamn Nazis.

 

“Un-fucking-acceptable.” Tony mouth twitched. “Those _fucking bastards._ ”

It didn’t matter that it was “The Winter Soldier” (which it really wasn’t, honestly.) It didn’t matter that he was one of “them”, it didn’t matter that he was the fucking trigger to get “them” to become “them” to begin with.

Anthony Stark had accepted this man into _his fucking home_ and he was under Tony Stark's, _Iron Man's,_ protection. And now he learns something as important and as infuriating as that?

_Un-fucking-acceptable._

Barnes shrugged and averted his gaze. Tony nearly had a heart attack, metaphorically of course.

“Woah woah whoa whoa whoa,” _Save this Stark, save this conversation_. “NO, talk, speak, and look me in the eye, I don’t care about this fucking rule right now.”

Barnes slowly looked back up. “...Nothing can be done about it anyway. It’ll come back...eventually.”

Tony gave a disapproving sigh. “Things can be done about everything...I’ll think of something. Promise. People might think I throw the word “Promise” around lazily, which I might actually, but I mean it, for you.”

“....For me?”

“Yeah, why not? I mean like I said, I don’t hate you, why wouldn’t I help? I help people I outright despise all the time...I’m not exactly a fan of the government you know. Fan of the law sure, I’ll make sure nobody kills anyone. but spineless dickless government asshats that think they’re better than everyone? Those guys are the people that are okay with hundreds of soldiers dying for them and not saying a damn word or apology to their families because _“They signed up for this”_? Fuck. Them. Those are the guys I don’t keep my promises to because I’m not okay with people dying for me. Never was, and never again will I let anyone _anyone_ do it for me. I do it for them. Now you want coffee right?”

“That….was a lot of words...” This seemed to be the second time tonight Tony Stark had shocked Barnes. Oh well.

“Let’s turn it down then. Coffee. You. Yes. Want?”

Barnes nodded.

“Words.”

“Yes.”

“Good, pay close attention to how this thing works.”

 

………………………………

 

So, maybe Stark wasn’t as bad as he thought. Which was about as bad as his friend Steve made him sound. Not the worst person out there. Definitely not anywhere near the best.

_“Not anywhere near you, Bucky.”_

_Yeah, maybe not anywhere near Bucky . To you at least, Steve._

 

But he wasn’t Bucky, he was Him.

And he still needed a better freaking name.

 

Stark seemed better than what Steve said. He was kind enough to help him earlier when he didn’t want to sleep. And stayed with him a little while after. “Just keeping you company” was the only other thing Stark said as he poured his own cup. He eventually slunked off into his own room at around 5AM though.

So maybe Stark wasn’t as bad as he thought.

Maybe he had too biased an opinion given to him from Steve.

Maybe he should get another possibly biased opinion and compare the two together.

The other James seemed shocked to see him standing behind the door after he knocked. They had never had a single word shared between them after all. He pressed his lips into a slightly agitated line and crossed his arms.

“What?”

Uh, actually, Barnes hadn’t planned this far. Or if he had it slipped away from him before he could remember.

 _“What?_ I don’t exactly have all day.”

“What…”

“Yeah, it’s a word, I’m asking you a question. _What do you want?_ ”

“What... What is Stark like?”

The other James didn’t miss a beat “Why do you care?”

“I think I need a second opinion on him.”

The other James gave him a weird look “Your first opinion was from?”

“...Steve.”

“And it was….?”

“I don’t think it was entirely correct.”

 **“** **_No fucking shit.”_ **

“That’s why I want to know what you think he’s like.”

“You mean what he’s actually like.”

“...Yes?”

“It’s a damn “Yes”, not a question. I’ve known Tony for literal decades. I get the guy.”

“...You do?”

“If this conversation is turning back around to fucking Rogers I will slam this door on your face, I’m barely holding myself back as it is.”

“...Are you always this hostile?”

“Only to people who hurt my best friend. This is me trying to be nice.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t tell that to me, I don’t care if you are. And don’t tell it to Tony either, he’ll twist it around somehow to make it feel like it’s his fault. It’s his fucking gift, amongst others.” The other James sighed deeply. “Fine, I’ll tell you what I think of Tony.”

He was paying close attention to whatever was going to come out of the other James mouth next.

“First of all, he’s a fucking idiot.”

That's not what he thought the other James was going to say.

“Not in the brain's sense, but in his heart, he has no common sense and does the weirdest and occasionally the nicest shit out of nowhere simply because _he can_ . He’s willing to risk his life and livelihood for the sake of others and will stupidly put himself in harm's way so nobody else has to bite the bullet. He’s still, _still_ making consistent upgrades and helpful gadgets for the people who didn’t seem like they couldn’t care less if he died or not. So yeah, he’s a fucking idiot. Got what you wanted?”

“...Got something to think about.”

“Great. Leave me alone now.”

“Thanks...James.”

“Not James, it’s Rhodes to your “team” of assholes,” He paused and seemed to ponder something for a moment. “And it’s Rhodey to you.” The other James then shut the door. Leaving him alone in the hall.

He wonders for a moment why him of all people gets to call him “Rhodey”.

But he’s mostly trying to memorize the entire ordeal.

He doesn’t want to forget.

 

……………………………..

 

“Here,” Tony held out the object in his hand, waiting for Barnes to take it.

 

It finally wasn’t the middle of the night, and it wasn’t in the kitchen for once. Tony had felt brave enough to take the slightly risky path to Barnes room at early evening, as the sun was setting.

 

Barnes accepted it cautiously. And looked at it.

 

“It’s a journal.” Tony explained. “Well technically it’s a journal, but it’ll probably be used more like a notepad. You can put all your thoughts into here. Anything you might not want to forget. Anything you might feel is important.”

 

Barnes nodded.

 

“Words please.”

 

“Thank you,” Barnes looked right into Tony's eyes. “Really.”

 

“I like to give gifts I know people will use all the time. When I’m not being showboaty about it. Like buying someone not just a personal yacht, but _ten_ personal yachts. Rhodey’s still upset. He says he has nothing he could do with them.” Tony thought for a second, then smiled. “Hey, show _boat_ y.”

 

Barnes didn’t seem to react much. But Tony did notice the very subtle curl of his lips.

 

_There we go, the"be charming, comedic Tony Stark” mission is a success._

 

“Anyway, I don’t really have anything else except this.” Tony handed Barnes another object, a box of expensive pens and pencils. “These are also really good pens, I use them all the time when I ever actually write things down. Hope they’ll be useful. The pencils are if you’re the artistic type, and want to draw, some people use pens for both but I just wanted you to be able to erase it if you wanted to.”

 

Barnes nodded, Tony let it go this time.

 

He turned to leave, and was halfway out the door when he turned around and shut it again. “I know it’s not the best solution because of the reading thing sometimes, but if there’s ever a problem with that, you can just come to me. There's a little voice recording of me saying something similar to that if you stay on a page for more than an hour. It’ll only say it once so if you’re drawing I hope it won’t bother you too much.”

 

Barnes nodded.

 

“Nope, words.” He’s not gonna let it go too often.

 

“Again, thank you...Stark.”

 

“Please, don’t call me Stark. Tony is just fine.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay, bye.”

 

And Tony Stark left the room.

 

…………………………….

 

**_Journal, “entry” 1,_ **

**_Things I don’t want to forget:_ **

 

_How to use the coffee machine._

  
  
_Where the pens and pencils are (bottom right drawer of nightstand.)_

  
  
_You we’re given permission (demanded?) to call the other James “Rhodey”_

  
  
_Rhodey knows Stark very well (he also thinks he’s an idiot (maybe?))_

  
  
_Stark likes puns (you like puns?)_

  
  
_Stark isn’t happy. (He seemed happier when he gave you this though.)_

  
_Stark is very good at faking smiles. (you are not.)_

  
  
_Stark is willing to talk to you (he wants you to talk back?)_

  
  
_Stark doesn’t hate you. (he says so at least?)_

  
  
_Rhodey owns ten yachts._

  
  
_Stark is very good at making coffee._

  
  
_Stark is a better person than you thought he was. (Than Steve thinks he is?)_

  
  
_Start calling Stark “Tony”_

  
  
_Tony is a very nice name._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly you guys should read every “_____ didn’t plan this far” as “The author didn’t plan this far” because everything beyond that is literally just me improvising the rest of the scene.
> 
>  
> 
> Rhodey is a little bit more than hostile if you can't tell. (But it's just because he cares about Tony) I tried to make it seem like he seems less angry around Barnes, probably because he's the only one Tony feels comfortable enough to talk to. And Barnes is the only one Rhodey is really bothering giving a chance to because Rhodey understands, (like Tony) it technically wasn't his fault. (And Rhodey is mad because they betrayed Tony, but Tony didn't even know Barnes, so Rhodey isn't as mad at him because of that too.)
> 
>  
> 
> Hahahaha sorry Steve, I wanted more Winteriron this chapter. You are not forgotten.
> 
>  
> 
> Like I said before, these chapters aren't very long oops. But again, getting it out quickly (sort of).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs to calm the fuck down.  
> Bucky needs to lighten the fuck up.  
> Tony...needs less fucking coffee.

Not even five seconds after he wrote the last line to his first “Journal entry.” there was another knock at the door.

 

Instinctively, he shoved the journal into the underside of his pillow and slammed the pen into the nearest drawer he could find, too hard, as he found out when the bottom cracked and almost gave way. Yet barely strung on, he shoved it back in and it looked normal.

 

“Bucky?” He was glad Steve wasn’t in there to see how he, still partially running on instinct, flinched at that name. “Are you okay?”

 

“I-I’m fine, sorry, come in.” He sounded flustered, he  _was_ flustered,he checked back to make sure one more time that you couldn’t see any sign of Tony’s gift before he opened the door.

 

He didn’t want anyone, especially Steve to know about it. It felt like something almost sacred to him. It was not only a sign, but a confirmation there’s something more to Tony Stark than Steve saw, what he assumed before with the information Steve gave to him. He knows that Steve would scoff, or twist it into something it isn’t. He knows the others wouldn't understand. They’d never think of Tony trying to _help_ him. Not without pressure of expecting something in return.

 

He couldn’t tell them, he couldn’t show them. They wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t want cause harm to Tony, he’s done nothing but try to help. He even went to try to help before _the fight_ initiated.

 

He knew with every fiber of his being this had to be a secret. They _could not know_.

Not yet. Not until he knows it’s safe.

 

…………………………..

 

The moment Steve entered the room he could tell something was off.

He noticed Bucky having an abnormal pitch in his voice, and it wasn’t usually one to studder. He thought of letting it slide but when he entered he noticed how the room felt somewhat high-energy, not like the usual vibe of the room.

“I saw Stark leave.” He explained quickly, still scanning the room subtly. Searching for any sign of negative influence, violence. Nothing good had to have come out Stark being in Bucky’s room. Nothing good had to have come out of Stark being that close to him in the first place. “He didn’t do anything to you right?”

“No, nothing happened.”

“Are you sure?” Steve couldn’t trust Stark to simply enter a room without a purpose. However unseemly it could be. “He could have done something without you noticing, Stark is sneaky, sly.” Steve made a face. “Suspicious.”

Bucky broke eye contact and looked at the ground.

“I just want to make sure, he didn’t cause any harm?” He knows the room is off from it’s usual atmosphere, it felt like there was something Bucky wasn’t telling him. It wasn’t a good sign if it felt like this right after Stark left.

“Steve,” Bucky’s blue eyes were staring, reflecting Steve's own.

“What is it?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything Bucky.” They both know fully well how far Steve would go for Bucky Barnes.

“Can you tell me what you really think of...Stark.”

“I already have.”

“I remember, please, tell me again?”

“Like I said,” Steve smiled, “Anything for you Bucky.”

 

…………………

 

_“Anything for you Bucky.”_

 

There it was, _Bucky._ That name.

He really hated it. Not that it was known by anyone but him.

He doesn’t know why, but he liked how Tony had said _“for you.”_ better.

Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why.

Tony doesn’t call him Bucky.

 

He doesn’t hate Steve, he actually really likes him, he’s his only real friend. But there were times he wished Steve wouldn’t cling to the past so intensely. All he himself wants to do is to forget the past, because the past to him was foggy memories of killing, murder, cruel, brutal actions, either committed by himself or to him by others. Even before that, even when he struggles and faintly remembers the life of _Bucky,_ all he really remembers is war, is fighting and torture even then, he doesn’t really remember when there wasn’t a time he wasn’t fighting one thing or another. Some people, Steve for example, would say that’s noble.

 

He’s just tired.

 

But he remembered Steve, his friend, the one he’s with until the end of the line.

That will never, ever not be true. He will always be with Steve.

That doesn’t mean he always has to agree with him though.

That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t ever fight him if he realized he was in the wrong.

 _Bucky_ was his best friend. He might hate that name, Hell, he might hate that man, simply because so many look at him and see him, and don’t see _Him._ but he knows how deeply he cared for Steve, he’s felt it. _Remembered it_ . He knows he’s Steve's best friend right now. Even if Steve can’t, or maybe refuses, to consider him as _not Bucky._

Of course he’ll be Steve best friend.

_...He might do it differently though._

There’s little to no doubt in his mind he would follow Steve to Hell and back, actually.

But he’s also going to keep him in line, better than _Bucky_ did anyway. From the stories Steve had told him, he felt like _Bucky_ was a bit too lenient with Steve, even if that was most likely because Steve was so fragile. But Steve was strong and powerful now. And everyone knows what comes with great power.

 

He wanted to know what Steve had to say.

 _Wanted..._ might not actually have been a good word for that.

He had to know. Because to him it was important.

His heart felt like it had dropped into his stomach. But he had to know.

He thinks he doesn’t want to hear this.

 

He was right.

 

…………………….

 

Barnes was sitting in the kitchen again, late at night, again.

 

Tony sighed but he had a slight smile on his face. “So, is this like _our spot_ or something?” He joked. “I could even place a little _reserved_ sign on the table, nobody really comes down here anyway, I doubt anyone would ask either.”

 

Barnes pressed his lips into a fine line. And looked him dead in the eyes.

 

Tony rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. “Words.”

 

“Are you like the things people say about you?”

 

Tough question.

 

“Usually depends on what people are saying about me, press tends to blow every single thing out of proportion simply because it makes a better headline, so specifics here are kinda important. Why?”

 

“I just have a hard time seeing you as narcissistic.”

 

 _“Oh man,”_ Tony shook his head and chuckled. “The day I, Tony Stark, am not a narcissistic asshole is the day the universe collapses in on itself.”

 

“I don’t see you as a narcissist though.”

 

“Maybe I’m also just good at lying.” Tony shrugged. “Maybe I’m this _“Wolf in sheep's clothing.”_ Maybe I’m an impulsive, deceitful, mischievous, reckless, overall _delightful asshat_ that everyone says I am. Maybe I’m just so clever that I’ve tricked people into liking me. What do you think?”

 

Barnes bit his bottom lip.

 

“Words.”

 

“I think...I think that’s what you want people to think.”

 

Tony laughed. “Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah, I think you’re hiding yourself. I think that the guy that walked in on me and told me to _“fucking understand”_ and then went off about how he doesn’t hate me, is the real you.”

 

“Maybe I’m faking on what the real me is. Maybe I’m an asshole who deep down seems like a nice guy, but just ends up being an even bigger asshole at his core.”

 

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

 

Tony laughed, a little bit too loud. “No, you could more than likely kill me in one move. I’m a scientist, though, you threw out a hypothesis, I’m listing out possible outcomes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Sometimes what you expect to happen and what happens are two completely different things.” Tony explained. “For example, when you first arrived here, there’s no way in hell you would think that we’d basically be having a nightly tradition of talking, right?”

 

“Fair point.” Barnes almost seemed to be smirking. “Another fair point to be made is that I questioned you were narcissistic, you said you were, and then listed bad things or bad assumptions about your personality, so you gave me my answer.”

 

“You’re smarter than you look, you know.”

 

“Do I look stupid?”

 

“Well…” Tony scanned Barnes and compared him to most scientist and other geniuses he’s met and read about. “You’ve got the crappy hair for it.”

 

“Crappy?”

 

“Do you _see_ the split ends? It’s everywhere. Horrible, truly hideous.” Tony couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“You’re hair isn’t “crappy” though.” Barnes pointed out.

 

“One, you’ve never seen it covered in my lovely combination or oil, sweat, grease and occasionally cold coffee because DUM-E is, well, a dummy. Two, I pay half a thousand for my haircuts. _It better be damn good._ ”

 

The corner of Barnes mouth twitched up for a moment. That to Tony signaled something similar to if he had laughed out loud.

 

 _“Anyways,_ I didn’t really expect you to be here, even though I should at this point. I was just here to grab more coffee grinds. This is where I keep them when my stash in the lab runs out.”

 

“You’re going back?”

 

“Yep, I get no sleep tonight, here’s to bad decisions.” Tony walked behind the counter and began digging through some cabinets that were stock full of different variations of coffee. “I have an inkling you want to say something about that.”

 

There was silence.

 

“Words.”

 

There was a slight pause that made Tony wonder if Barnes had left before he heard him again.

 

“...Can I come?” his voice seemed small, It was almost a whisper, but Tony heard it.

 

“I mean...I don’t see why not. There's a couch in there so you can sit there and do something. Be prepared though, I usually tend to ignore people in there.”

“That’s okay.” Barnes replied

 

“I hoped it was.” Tony said as he finally found the kind of coffee he wanted that night, hidden all the way in the back of the cabinet. How did it get all the way back there? “I’ll make you a cup.” He said as he turned and lifted up the bag to show Barnes his victory.

 

“That...that sounds nice, actually.”

 

“Great, just don’t go bouncing off the walls, this thing is _loaded_ with caffeine.”

 

“No sleeping sounds nice, actually.”

 

That reply concerned Tony slightly, but he knows better than to say anything.

Tony knows very well what it’s like to not want to fall asleep.

To not want to dream.

 

So Tony grabbed a mug for Barnes from another cabinet. And they made their way to the lab, the safe-haven, of Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal entry's aren't always going to be present in chapters and they're going to be littered though the fic wherever I see fit to place them. Sorry about not having one this time around~
> 
> I wouldn't consider what happens between Tony and Bucky as a "fight" per say, I see it more as like how Tony explained it to him.
> 
> Things we've learned via my writing: I have no idea how to write Steve Rogers if he dislikes Tony Stark and it's not making sense to anyone. Including me. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Tony left him as soon as they stepped foot in the lab.

Well, he didn’t leave him _physically_ , but he got the feeling that the moment they walked through the door, he was with a different man. The vibes he always felt whenever Tony was present seemed tense and cautious, like one wrong word could send him running.

But in here, in the moment Tony Stark entered his workshop, he could practically see how he relaxed. He could see through his body language alone that Tony was more at home here than anywhere else in the building

This _was_  Tony's home, in a way. 

Tony’s feet seemed to be moving on autopilot, but everything else, every movement, every blink, every breath, seemed to be done with a purpose, as if it all would build up into a specific goal.

Of course, he would never have noticed any of this without his “ _enhancements._ ”

 

(He wanted to _gag_ even calling them that, even if it’s exactly what it is. He didn’t want to remember where they came from, yet it seems to be the only thing that is a constant in his mind.)

 

Tony stopped at the coffee machine that looks like it had been hijacked from one of the kitchens and, without even looking, pointed his index finger over to a black couch in the corner of the room. “Sit.”

He obeyed. After a few moments, Tony brought over the mug, now full of steaming coffee. And placed it in front of him.

“Now, before I actually get started,” Tony placed his hands in his pockets. “Is there anything else you need? Or are you okay now? I get pretty involved in my work so you might not get this chance again.”

 

He shook his head. Tony raised an eyebrow and looked like he was about to say something, then stopped, and let it go.

 

He watched as Tony turned away from him and placed himself in a chair not too far from Barnes, muttered something, and started typing. He simply watched for a few moments, in complete silence save for Tony’s subconscious mumbling. He raised a hand to reach for the coffee that had been put out for him when he realized there was something in his hand.

 

The journal. He hadn’t even realized he brought it out of his room.

He needs to be more careful.

_Well, now’s as good a time as any._

He opened the book to see if he wrote down anything and then forgotten.

 

There was.

 

 .................................

 

 

_Journal “entry” 2,_

 

_Don’t show anyone this until you know it’s safe._

_It bothers me to sound so mistrusting but this isn’t me showing anyone this that I’m worried about. Sta--_ _Tony_ _(remember to call him Tony) and if the others will take this to mean something it doesn’t. Tony, or at least the Tony you think you slightly understand. Seems to be twisted in their minds. (because of mistakes? Generalizations? Distance? Worse because of the time spent apart?) I’m not sure, and that’s exactly why you can’t tell them, you have to be sure. Have to know. _

 

_It’s hard to trust people._

 

_I forgot where the pens where today, even though I had written in down, I had forgotten I had and didn’t open this journal until I had searched through nearly the entire room looking for them, so I also started having one in here too. It’s hooked onto the back._

_(also start checking the journal_ _before_ _you ransack the room.)_

 

He blinked at the sentence, he didn’t remember he had forgotten the pens, but the memory of searching all about his room this morning seemed to come back to him, if only by a little bit. He felt over the back of the journal, and hooked near the spine was indeed a pen.

 

He kept reading.

 

 _I’m going to write down what Steve thinks of Sta--_ _Tony_ _(_ _write Tony!!!_ _) so I don’t forget._

 

 _First of all, Steve does not think Tony is a_ _bad_ _person per say. But he does think that Tony is impulsive and secretive (and narcissistic(???)). Which is fine in everyday life and problems, but when it’s life threatening or threatens other people's lives, it becomes a problem._

_He also thinks Tony doesn’t like you._

_(you killed his parents, he would have good reason to. Also, Ever notice how paranoid Steve gets about Tony? It’s weird.)_

_Interesting on how Steve directly contradicts what Tony has said to you himself, but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t tell him about how Tony will talk to you. (it’s unsafe.)_

_It bothers me that I’m hiding things from Steve, but I don’t know how he’ll react. I really am bothered by it though. I just don’t think he would get it. Not yet at least._

_But he's still my friend._

 

...........................

 

 

He closed the journal and set it down slowly. Then took the warm mug into his hands. He stared down at the hot contents of the cup then brought it to his lips. The coffee burned his tongue, but he didn’t move. His eyes eventually found their way to the back of Tony’s head.

 

Stark looked like he was lost in his own world, not paying attention to anything or anyone around him, giving all his concentration and focus into only what was in front of him. Mumbling and muttering and trailing off in the middle of any sort of sentence. _Yes_ and _no_ and _that’s okay_ and _I can fix that_ were the most common “sentences” filling the room. He wanted to know what St--Tony was working on, but also didn’t want to break the sort of connection Tony had with his work. So he didn’t say anything. They stayed like that for a while, he's not sure how long actually, but it was quite some time after the cup had gone empty and cold. And then a some more time after that.

 

Suddenly Tony spoke.

 

“Okay, okay okay okay okay okay okay, FRIDAY, remember, don’t do _anything_ until I tell you to _verbally_.” Tony had pushed his chair back and wheeled into the center of the room. He put his hands on his head for a moment, then flayed them out into the air, similar to the recordings he had seen of Starks speeches.

 

Tony stayed completely still for a moment.

Then he clapped twice.

The lights went off.

 

He instinctively jumped into a fighting stance, and scanned what he could see of the room. Tony still had his hands clasped together, and he lowered them and gave a small _huff_ which in turn changed into a hearty laugh as he stood up, flaying his arms out again.

 

“It worked!” Tony sounded nearly ecstatic “It worked! You did it! You did it you _resilient little bastard!_ ”

 

He wasn’t sure if he could see well enough to tell, but he was pretty sure he saw Tony jump into the air.

 

Tony was laughing hard and blew a kiss from his hands into the air. With his arms still raised from the kiss, he clapped again and the lights switched back on. Tony backed up and collapsed back onto the chair. Out of breath and smiling widely.

 

Tony suddenly jerked himself and the chair around to be facing him.

“Did you see that?!” He asked, smiling and looking around the room.

He wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or not, so he pointed a finger at himself.

“Yes, words, did you see that, _did you see that?_ ”

“Yes, I did...why are you so excited about it?’

“Oh..” Tony paused to take a breathe. “I guess you wouldn’t know huh?”

“...No.”

“It was...I lost...I lost a friend--well--no, yeah, a friend, let’s just go with friend, a while back. He wasn’t corporeal, he actually the AI for my suits and homes a while back. But he was destroyed. And I thought I had lost him forever. Until a few days ago.” Tony let out a puff of air. “A few days ago I was searching through the last of the digital code and disconnecting it from the tower, and found something.” He smiled widely again. “Found some _one_.”

Tony waited for a response, he nodded.

“He was small and shattered and the entirety of him barely took 1/16th the lines of code he had meant to, but he was _alive_ .” Tony leaned back into the chair. “He was still _there_ , and he was trying to _rebuild_ himself.” Tony gestured to the maze of equipment lined against the wall “So I thought I should help. But it takes a lot of work and effort to retrieve the very small amount of uncorrupted data as well as practically writing a new code for him from scratch. He couldn’t do anything really, imagine if you had lost all your limbs,” Tony’s eye drifted over to the other man's arm. And took a sharp breath.“Sorry, bad example, but, if someone had lost all their limbs, they wouldn’t be able to do anything until someone found them, right? That’s what's going on. He exists, he’s _alive_ and he’s been _alive_ , but couldn’t do anything but wait until I, or someone else, found him.”

 

He didn’t entirely understand what Tony was talking about, but felt as though he got the gist of most of it.

 

“That, what I just did, and what I’ve been doing all night, was me putting the final coding in to allow him into the compounds systems. He can’t do very much of anything _yet_ , but he’s here and me and FRIDAY are going to keep helping him until he’s okay. The clapping was to make sure he had been connected properly, since all audio from him had been lost.”

 

He nodded and Tony slumped back further into the chair. His hands over his eyes, as he let out a deep breathe. Then laughed lightly again.

 

“Welcome home, JARVIS…..welcome home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the shortest chapter yet but I felt it would be good to end the chapter there over continuing. 
> 
> Nobody's mad at me over this right?
> 
> Also I'm sorry this took longer than usual I hadn't had much time to write recently.
> 
> (Crappy part about Bucky not having a name he likes means I also need to be a lot more specific over who was feeling/doing/saying what and I sort of feel like I'm treating you all like 5 year-olds when I do it.)


	6. Chapter 6

“...Hey.”

 

Tony looked over at him, for the past hour he was seemingly was less focused on his work than before. Lazily typing on the computer,  _ (“prep for tomorrow” he said, not bothering to see that it was already 5AM).  _ Tony had stopped, went to re-make some coffee for the two of them, and sat next to him on the couch. 

 

He didn’t respond for a moment and Tony frowned. “Talk to me, I have a question.”

 

“What is it?” 

 

“Why don’t you sleep?”

 

He froze.

 

“Oh jesus,” Tony grimaced. “You don’t have to tell my anything you don’t have to, believe me, just--I’m sorry I even brought it up--”

 

“I dream about them sometimes.”

 

Tony looked taken aback. “Who?”

“All of them”

 

He was pretty sure he just saw Tony's face shatter into pieces.

 

“No...no no no no no no, NO.” Tony shot up in anger. He pointed a finger at him. “That--Those people’s harm, those people's _ deaths _ were _ not your fault.  _ That was fucking HYDRA and their shitty fucking ideas, like being nazis. Like going up against Captain America which I can tell you from personal experience is a fucking mess. Like brainwashing people to do all their shitty fucking dirty work and I  _ will not stand _ for you blaming yourself over  _ fucking nazis,  _ Those people's deaths are on  _ them _ , not on you.”

 

Tony’s hand was shaking.

 

“It’s still blood on my hands, I was the one who went to kill them. Who did kill them.”

“Again, you are not blaming yourself over  _ fucking nazis. _ ” 

“That doesn’t stop me from dreaming about them. From dreaming about the people I killed, the good, honest,  _ hardworking _ , people trying to make the world a better place. I can remember them sometimes, especially when I sleep.” He took a shaky breath.

 

Tony’s hand changed position, he wasn’t pointing at him anymore, and was exposing his palm and fingers in a “stop” motion. “You don’t have to force yourself.”

 

“I  _ want  _ to force myself, Tony” He replied.

 

 

“...Why?”

 

 

“Because you listen. Because you’re giving me your full undivided attention every time I open my mouth. Because you don’t compare me and my problems to--to other people's.”  _ To Bucky’s _

 

Tony put his hand down and stuck it in his pocket. “Alright. I'm listening.”

 

 

“I can remember...” He took a deep breath.

 

_ In. _

 

_ Out. _

 

_ Let it out. _

 

 

“I can remember how happy I was to kill them.” 

 

……………………

  
  


Tony froze. 

 

_ What the hell could he say to that? _

 

Apparently his mouth was moving faster than his mind, for once.

 

“Not you. It wasn’t how happy  _ you  _ were to kill them. It was--”

 

“It was  _ The Winter fucking Soldier _ , I know.” Barnes spat out the name like a bad taste in his mouth. “But  _ The Winter Soldier _ was always happy to kill them, to complete the mission. It was part of the program.”

 

Tony didn’t know what to say.

 

“I can remember the feeling of pure glee that was taken in completing his missions, In killing those people. I can remember the feeling of  _ ecstasy  _ there was every time someone begged for their lives. And I remember them everytime I close my eyes for more than a second. I’ve slept two nights since coming here and both times I woke up screaming and flailing. And I’ve decided it’s better not to sleep.”

 

Tony bit back the question trying to crawl it’s way out of his throat.  _ Was it like that when he killed his family? _ He didn’t want to know, he didn’t want Barnes to answer. He wanted to shut up and never talk again if that’s what it took to not ask. He choked it down, he didn’t ask. He won’t ask. Not for a long, long time at least, and hopefully never.

 

“You know that’s physically impossible, even for you super soldier types, everyone and everything here except for bots, AIs and androids all need to sleep. You can’t just  _ stop _ .”

 

“I can try.”

 

“You realize the consequences of staying awake for more than about four days are when things get  _ dire _ right? You start blacking out, hallucinating, you can’t pay attention to things as well, under-performing on the battlefield, and serious heart issues right? Strokes, heart attacks, an increase in risk for heart disease--”

 

“I get it Tony. It won’t change my mind on this, I’m not going to purposefully put myself through that again.”

 

Barnes was standing his ground and not moving one inch. It reminds Tony of a few people, himself included.

 

Speaking of one of those people, Tony checked the time.

 

“Fine, we can come back to the sleep thing later, what about eating?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

 

Barnes expression didn’t change.

 

“We all need to eat, come one, I’m meant to have breakfast with Rhodey in about half an hour. But fair warning, we’re both shit cooks, so be ready to choke down runny-yet-somehow-charred-eggs, and don’t even think about eating or drinking anything one of the bots gives you, take it, smile, say thank you,  _ don’t eat it _ , they think we’re made of the same stuff they are and try to feed us fuel. Which is a nice notion of  _ “I don’t want you to die” _ but you  _ seriously will _ if you drink it.”

Barnes nodded.

 

“Good, get changed, you can’t start a new day in yesterday's sweats, well you  _ could _ , but I think Rhodey would secretly judge you for it, and I would openly judge you for it. T-shirt and jeans at least, suit vest at most, don’t do polos though, only Rhodey gets to wear polos. Lost a bet a few years ago. I don’t get to wear polos ever again so don’t gang up on me. Get changed, I’ll wait for you back here and we can go together.”

 

“Don’t you have to change too?”

 

Tony chuckled slightly and walked over to another part of the lab and yanked open a drawer, He then held up a plain black T-shirt and jeans. “You do realize I practically live in here right? Hell, the only reason I  _ don’t _ have a bed in here is because Rhodey almost slapped me for suggesting it in the first place. Anyway, go get changed.”

 

 

Tony turned around and quickly removed his shirt, paused, and turned back around. “What are you still doing here? Go go.” He waved him away and didn’t turn around again until he saw Barnes turn down the hall.

 

 

While reaching for his new shirt, he wondered which one was more likely.

 

Rhodey killing him on purpose for bringing Barnes along, or DUM-E killing him on accident with whatever the bot had concocted this morning. 

 

He had his money on Rhodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Laughs* I did this in like an hour! It's almost 1AM! I thrive when I night write. *finger guns* 
> 
> (again I did this in like an hour so short chapter for you all.)
> 
> Tonight has been an angst night. Have a serving of suffering! On the house! 
> 
> I really need to stop bringing in new concepts I'm going to forget something I just know it. (already low-key forgetting Steve but not really I just don't have the ideas to write for him.)
> 
> Speaking of which six chapters in and there has been literally ZIP interaction with other Avengers I've been meaning to put in here. OOPS.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinnamon rolls, the bots, Rhodey being the best. Gummy worm.

Over the course of the twenty-plus years Tony Stark has known James “Rhodey” Rhodes, it should be no surprise to anyone that they are basically able to read each other's minds, and no surprise they would be able to communicate through small gestures and tiny hints of body language/facial expressions. Facial expressions weren’t even something they specifically needed, which had been displayed on multiple occasions in combat with both fully suited up. They just knew.

 

Of course the relationship also succeeds through each others actions and reactions to situations, the formula usually goes similar to this _(though it isn’t always the case)_ : Tony brings something new to the table, Rhodey reacts, a good or bad reaction will factor in on the idea of Tony doing it again/often. If Rhodey thinks it’s a bad idea, Tony keeps it in mind.

 

Ironically, today Tony is literally bringing something new to the table, some _one_ new.

 

DUM-E was pestering Rhodey when Tony entered. The minute the bot noticed _“Dad's”_ presence. He rushed over as quickly as he could and started pestering him instead.

 

“He’s needy today.” Rhodes mumbled “ _They’re_ needy today, Butterfingers managed to escape your lab and was waiting _patiently_ by my door this morning like a puppy.”

 

Tony looked up and gave him a half-smirk, half-grimace, that was meant to “say” " _sorry, I was busy."_

 

Rhodey waved him off. He seemed to have finally noticed Barnes at that moment because he cautiously stopped and slowly put his hand down. He made eye contact with Tony and nudged his head softly in Barnes direction.     

      

“I invited him.” Tony spoke.

 

“You invited him?”

 

“Yep, and we’re all going to eat and chat together like you and I normally do.”

 

“Is Rogers coming?”

 

“No.” That was almost too quick an answer.

 

“Then sit down and pay attention to your _“kids”_ because _I ca_ _n’t cook like this Tones_.” Rhodey said pointing over to the other bots making a mess of the kitchen. Butterfingers had been struggling to get the fridge door open and every time there was a minor success, he hit U and the fridge door slammed closed again.

 

Tony whistled and they zipped over to him, clamoring for his attention. Rhodey took the opportunity and quickly moved himself to the now bot-free kitchen. Tony then noticed Barnes shifting his feet and staring uncomfortably and gestured for him to sit down. Barnes made the movement to take the chair adjacent to Tony's, but then swiftly and awkwardly sat down on a chair further away, leaving the other seat to act as a “barrier” between them.

 

The bots seemed to have finally noticed that someone else was here besides Tony and Rhodey. DUM-E moved over to Barnes warily and flexed his claw.

 

Barnes didn’t move.

 

“He’s trying to say hello.” Tony explained.

 

The small clattering that had been serving as background noise heard from the kitchen stopped. Tony looked up to see Rhodey, who had been prepping the food was completely still. His back turned towards Barnes and Tony. The other bots were still slightly hovering around him, but slowly wandered over to Barnes after he stiffly waved back at DUM-E. They surrounded him, and almost looked as if they were studying him, before eagerly inspecting Barnes arm. The clattering noises then reappeared.

 

Tony noticed the bots were getting too close for Barnes to be comfortable, and it showed on his face, Tony snapped his fingers twice. “Hey, DUM-E that’s rud-- _U DON’T GRAB IT! HAVE I TAUGHT YOU NOTHING?”_ Tony leapt to his feet and rushed over to pry the bots "hand" away from where it had latched onto Barnes metal wrist. U released him immediately once it understood it was something unacceptable and moved its arm, “looking” over at tony and making sad and guilty movements and noises. Tony thinks he hears Rhodey try to stifle a laugh.

 

“No, don’t apologize to _me,_ do it to _him._ ” Tony sternly pointed from U over to where Barnes hadn’t moved from. DUM-E was still hovering over him, but knew better than to grab anything once the bot noticed that U was in trouble.

 

U swiveled back over to Barnes and “bowed” in a way that looked like regret.

 

Barnes looked up at Tony nervously, but when he was gestured to say something, he placed his hand on part of U and said “It’s okay, but please don’t do it again without permission.”

 

U looked back at Tony and he nodded. Then the bots were back to inspecting every single thing about the new person. They had never met him, after all.

 

Tony then noticed the scent of cinnamon filling the room.

 

“Rhodey bear?”

 

“Yeah gummy worm?”

 

“Do you remember the last time you tried to make anything with cinnamon on it?”

 

“I still have nightmares about the taste.” Tony was certain Rhodey was smiling. “Besides, this wasn’t made by me, Vision wanted to try making cinnamon buns last night, he would’ve too, but everyone was apparently sleeping or outside the compound or in some sort of hardcore training room, so he told me about them this morning when I woke up and then I haven’t seen him since.”

 

“He could’ve gone to my lab.”

 

“That classifies as _“hardcore training room”_ this time around."

 

“Fair enough.”

 

The coffee machine made a beeping noise to indicate it was done and Tony immediately got up and strolled into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, grabbed three mugs, and started filling them with coffee.

 

“Save some for the rest of us, Tones.” Rhodey smiled subtly. 

 

“No. I’m the only one that gets to drink coffee, ever.” Tony replied as he pretended to grimace putting Rhodey's favorite kind of creamer into one of the mugs.

 

“I’m a _monster_.” He whispered, pretending to be horrified--Scratch that, being horrified.

 

“ _Shut up,_ these things are almost done.”

 

“I haven’t shut up for almost twenty years, no way am I going to stop now.”

 

“I know, I’ve been there for it all.” 

 

Tony, still smiling, turned his attention away from Rhodey. “Barnes, do you want any sort of creamer? We have literally over a thousand possible combinations, I know because I made this thing myself.” Tony patted the coffee machine.

 

Silence.

 

“You can talk, you know."

 

Barnes glanced over at Rhodey, who was now taking the food out of the oven, and back to Tony.

 

Tony chuckled, understanding. “It’s not like he’s gonna rip your head off.”

 

_“Not yet, anyway.”_

 

“Rhodey, please.” Tony quickly glanced over to Rhodey trying to hide a smile and look intimidating. “Don’t worry about him, he’s called "Mama Bear" for a reason.”

 

“Also, I said you can call me “Rhodey” but if you say “Mama bear” at me I’ll punt you into next week.”

 

“It’s true,” Tony grinned at Barnes, who looked very bewildered to be in the middle of this conversation. “I made the upgrade last week. Rhodey could totally kick your ass...Sort-of...Maybe.” 

 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “You can speak around me anyway, it’s only Tony who has the rule.”

 

“....” There was very small mumbling, Barnes lips didn’t even looked like they moved, and they were both too far away to hear anything well from that far away.

 

“Words,--no-uh, louder words..?”

 

Barnes finally spoke up.

 

“....Does it have a caramel setting?”

 

………………………

 

 

 

It was a pretty perfect morning actually. Since Vision was a better cook than ten of Tony and Rhodey combined (The only thing the two of them can make well is toast and coffee, which they both learned the hard way at MIT.), the food was actually _edible,_ and not just that, it was _good._ The buns were warm and gooey, and had been completely annihilated with frosting, _(which was Tony fault mostly, but nobody was complaining.)_ It fit perfectly with Tony's steaming and bitter black coffee. The bots were bothering everyone at the table and making more of a mess to clean by placing cups filled to the brim with green sludge on the table, Tony, as usual, having been given the most. By the time they were only halfway done, over 10 cups had accumulated around him.

 

Tony jolted, suddenly realized he had forgotten to make an important announcement and slammed the coffee mug back on the table. _“RHODEY!”_

 

Barnes had jumped into a fighting pose, and Rhodey, startled, was already pulling a gun out. _“WHAT?”_

 

_“I AM AN IDIOT!”_

 

“Tony, did you just realize that now?” Rhodey still looked slightly shaken, and was seemingly debating between putting the gun back or not.

 

Tony suddenly couldn’t find his words, and his hands started tapping the table wildly. “JARVIS!” was the only thing he really managed to get out.

 

Rhodey, as expected, understood. Putting the gun down and smiling brightly. “You did it?” he asked

 

“Yes!”

 

“Great, now I have someone to complain about your insane decision making skills again, not that FRIDAY wasn’t amazing, but JARVIS knows how much of a true idiot you are.” Rhodey couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“That might take a while actually, most to all of his audio was destroyed, but he’s connected again.”

 

“I know the feeling” Rhodey breathed. “Can he hear us?”

 

“I don’t know actually, I told FRIDAY to help him get as connected to the compound as much as he can. So it depends on where she decided to start.”

 

The lights flickered on and off in separate parts of the room, The bots, unsure of what was happening, looked up at the ceiling curiously.

 

“I’m assuming that’s a yes.” Rhodey smiled. “Hey J.”

 

The microwave beeped.

 

“Oh, I get it, micro- _wave_.”

 

“No, Rhodey, I think that was just a coincidence, but I have taught you well.”

 

“Oh please, if anything Tony, _I_ _taught_ _you_.”

 

The lights flickered once.

 

“You know Tony, the common saying is _"One for yes, two for no."_ ” Rhodey grinned. Tony noticed the corner of Barnes lips twitch up for a moment, then, in a blink of an eye, was gone again.

 

He found that amusing.

 

_He's a little weird isn't he?_

 

But that was okay.

 

Tony Stark had always liked weird anyway.

...................................

 

Good food, good news, hot coffee, being able to relax. The bots, FRIDAY, JARVIS, Rhodey, Barnes.

 

 _Yeah,_ _this is perfect._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony is still basically riding on the high of getting JARVIS back so he's actually like,,,,happy for once! So thats why he's acting extra friendly this chapter.
> 
> I UPDATED!!!!! I ACTUALLY UPDATED!!!!! I DID IT GUYS!!!!!! I'M B A C K!!!!!!
> 
> Note: edited quite a bit. fixed some typos, made things smoother to read. Changed some lines (added some lines). It's all good now, I hope.


	8. Chapter 8

The switch from being with Tony to being with Steve and his friends sometimes happened so fast it felt like whiplash. As soon as breakfast was over, he tried to make his way back to his room, but had then been stopped by a sharp whistle. He turned and sitting sprawled on the couch was Hawkeye.

 

“You’ve been antisocial lately.”

 

He shrugged. Hawke--no, his name was Clint,  _ he should have remembered that.-- _ Clint shrugged back.

 

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

 

“I’m Fine.” 

 

“If you’re feeling up to it, I think all of us were talking about going out later over breakfast.”

 

“We'll see.” 

 

Clint shrugged again. “Okay.”

 

“Okay.” He left.

 

Closing the door to his room, he sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached under the pillow and searched until he felt the hard covering of the journal. He didn’t take it out, he only felt the cool and solid cover, protecting all of his secrets. Secrets he didn’t want to keep.

 

Still, there was a sense of relief that had swooped over him the second he touched it. The journal put him at ease, because he can write and show his true feelings about everything to this book.

 

This book given to him by the man who  _ listens _ . 

 

The man who had been criticized for only caring about himself and select few others. 

 

That those were the only people he fought for. 

 

The man who listened to the problems of a world-class _murderer_ , that hurt the people he loved, and tried to help him simply because _he wanted to and could._

 

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of the others to be perfectly honest. 

 

He liked them, of course he liked them, they were Steve’s friends and they were his friends too, but…

It was the way they spoke about Tony when they were alone.

  
  


He didn’t like to think about it honestly, at first he barely even noticed, or cared, for that matter. 

  
  


But he sees every time Tony is brought up in mention the harsh look most get in their eyes. He hears jokes at Tony's expense, and deep criticisms that he has a hard time believing it to be even a little bit true. 

  
  


He knows that most of the time, they’re messing around, but this wasn’t like the way they normally joked with each other. This was bonding over hate.

  
  


Hate of the only one who listened to him when he talked.  _ Really listened. _

  
  


He didn’t notice that he was gripping the side of the bed so hard until he heard a rip in the fabric. He pulled his metal hand up to his face and stared at the chunk of the bed he had just taken out. He placed it between both his hands and plucked at some of the cotton. Then let it all fall to the floor slowly. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel a little bit better. 

  
  


Clint was right, he had been avoiding them on purpose.

  
  


He was also unsure about what to do, honestly.

 

He liked them, he really did like them all, but if he had to sit still and say nothing while they did that to Tony in front of him, he’s pretty sure he would end up smacking someone.  _ Hard.  _

  
  
  


………………………

  
  
  


So there was an unsurprising feeling of relief when he found out they were going to a movie.

  
  


They wouldn’t be talking very much, so they couldn’t do  _ that _ , right? 

 

Besides, Steve was going to be there. Surprisingly, when Steve was around, they weren’t as bad. He was almost a sort of moderator, not a  _ good _ moderator, but, still. Nobody wanted to say anything bad in front of Captain America. After all, Steve didn’t  _ hate _ Tony, or at least, he says he doesn’t. He’s not really sure if he should believe that at this point. 

 

But the others kinda did though, and they showed it. Still, they toned it down around Steve. Which was interesting in it’s own right. 

 

Speaking of Steve, he was busy trying to get everyone ready in time and able to move out the minute he said so. His friend brightened when he saw him ready.

 

“Bucky! You’re coming!”

 

“Well, _ I _ am.”

 

“Great!” 

 

_ Great. _

 

Most everyone seemed ready to go, when Clint asked if he could invite Natasha.

 

“You don’t have to ask permission really,” Steve smiled and shook his head. “We’re all Avengers, aren’t we? Is there anyone else someone wants to invite? Sam? Wanda?”

 

They both said no.

 

“Buck, anyone you want to invite?”

 

There was actually.

 

He wanted to invite Tony.

 

He was also an Avenger. And they had said...He should be able to come along too. Should be.

 

But he couldn’t

 

Not only did he know everyone there didn’t trust, or even  _ like _ Stark, which the  _ “why?” _ to that is another question he feels he should ask soon, anyway. He knows Tony would refuse, or at least  _ desperately _ want to refuse. He wouldn’t want to be there, they wouldn’t want him there. The only person who would really even want Tony to attend would be him.

 

So he couldn’t.

 

He couldn’t put that kind of burden on his team.

 

On his friends.

 

And especially on Tony.

  
  


Tony, sitting in the dark for hours with people he doesn’t trust.

  
  


People he’s  _ scared of _ .

  
  


Even if he doesn’t want to admit to it. Because admitting to it shows weakness. He remembers their first “talk”. Tony had babbled on and stopped the second he showed any kind of vulnerability. Something like that doesn’t happen without some form of trauma being involved. And he expressed it towards his them. His team. His friends.

 

So he said no, he didn’t want to invite anyone. 

 

It wasn’t safe.

 

Before he left, he entered his room one last time and picked up the journal.

 

_ Journal “entry” 3,  _

 

_ It hurts to not trust your teammates. _

  
  


……………………….

 

They did it, Steve was there and they still did it. 

 

In fairness, he probably shouldn’t have felt so hopeful.

 

It’s not like Steve would be expected to stop it. It’s not like Steve might have even  _ wanted _ to. 

 

They made quiet, snarky comments to each other during the film on how the antagonist reminded them of Tony. They discussed the film during the ride back, which turned into more or less them complaining about the antagonist in a horribly transparent cover to ridicule Tony.

 

He almost did slap someone, but somehow, just barely, managed to restrain himself. 

 

When they got back to the compound he quickly excused himself to go back to his room. They expressed concern over what a “hermit” he’s becoming, but he said he isn’t ready to deal with so many people at a time, he thought he was but he wasn’t. 

 

He wasn’t exactly lying. They let him go. 

 

He went to his room and quickly locked the door. Then went to the bathroom adjacent to his room and locked that door too. He turned on the shower and sat down on the floor in the corner of the room, Sulking. 

 

It had been nearly four hours when the lights flickered for a moment. He didn’t react. The lights flickered again. Then stopped for a while. 

 

He knew it was Tony’s...AI? He thinks it’s called an AI. 

 

The lights flicked on and off in a patterned progression, not to far through it he realized it was more code.

 

_ -O-U A-L-R-I-G-H-T M-I-S-T-E-R B-A-R-N-E-S _

 

_ (Are you alright Mister Barnes?) _

 

He shook his head slightly.

 

_ W-O-U-L-D Y-O-U C-A-R-E T-O E-X-P-L-A-I-N W-H-Y _

 

_ (Would you care to explain why?) _

 

He shook his head again.

 

_ M-Y C-O-N-D-O-L-E-N-C-E-S T-O W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R I-S T-R-O-U-B-L-I-N-G Y-O-U _

 

_ (My condolences to whatever is troubling you.) _

 

He wonders if the AI could hear the barely whispered  _ “Thank you.” _ that escaped his lips.

 

……………………….

 

The feeling of comfort that the AI--who he now remembered the name of--JARVIS--reminded him, even so slightly, of the almost calming feeling he seemed to feel around Tony, and seemed to have the urge to feel it again. 

 

It’s better than sulking at least. And, as much as anyone else would tell him it didn’t matter, he had a feeling if he kept going, the water bill was going to be completely ridiculous, if it wasn’t already.

 

He stared at the falling water for a moment, then shrugged, he was there anyway. He stripped down, got in, washed off, cleaned off, changed clothes, and, hair still damp, set out on his way. 

 

………………………..

 

Tony Stark slept that night.

  
  


He didn’t mean to, but sometimes it seems he forgets that he’s a human being and not one of his machines. He practically lives like one anyways. He starts up, works fine for a while, then slows down and eventually crashes. Sleeping is almost like a reset button for Tony Stark.

 

Except it’s never a good reset. Tony Stark hasn’t had a good night's rest in years.

 

He dreams.

 

_ “Dreaming” _ isn’t a good word for this, this isn’t  _ “Dreaming”. _ The closest thing that comes to mind is a  _ “Nightmare”,  _ but they’re not exactly those either. If anything, they feel like memories. Memories that never happened. But feel so real, so vivid and clear, Tony could almost swear he lived through them.

 

_ “Nightmares” _ of memories and  _ “nightmares _ ” of what could have been. Tony’s mind finds a situation and looks at all the possible outcomes. He usually has “ _ nightmares”  _ because of this. If he doesn’t think about it, he dreams about it.

 

Unfortunately, Tony Stark has a lot he would rather not think about.

 

His mind formed the scene and he felt the sensation of freezing cold glass pressed against his cheek, he pulled away quickly.

 

 

_ Oh God. _

 

_ Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God _

 

He was  _ there _ again.

 

He knows that road.

 

Car. Trees. Streetlight.

 

He checked for a time. 

 

6:56 pm. five minutes. He has five minutes.

 

Because in five minutes, at 7:01pm, they’re going to crash. No matter what Tony does. 

 

And then they’re going to die. No matter what Tony does.

 

 

Four minutes.

 

 

He looked out the window, saw the trees rushing past them as the car moved. Saw a younger him staring back. No frown lines. No constant bags under his eyes.

 

His mother mentioned something quietly to his father. He brushed her off.

 

 

Three minutes. 

 

 

He stared at the reflection the rearview mirror. Focused on the road. He only glanced up for a second and caught him. Tony turned away. 

 

“If you have something to say, say it.”

 

He didn’t respond.

 

 

Two minutes.

 

 

It’s not like he needed to respond anyway, he knew, at least, on some level, that they didn’t actually exist, that they couldn’t be saved, no matter what.

Tony wanted to defy that with all of his heart. 

 

He always did.

 

 

One minute. 

 

 

He focused in on his mother. His mother who had always tried to be loving and caring to him. She didn’t deserve what was about to happen. She wasn’t anything but a victim. She died because she met his father and decided to get married. Decided to stay with him and have his son. None of this was her fault. The only thing she could be faulted for is marrying the wrong guy and having the wrong son. 

 

At least, that’s how Tony sees it.

 

 

Times up.

 

 

 

Crash.

 

Tony had been in enough car crashes that his mind could hyper fixate on the sensation completely. The way the car would jerk, how fast your heartbeat is meant to speed up. The feeling of a seatbelt as it cuts into your throat. 

 

He didn’t waste a second getting the seatbelt off. His father had crawled out his door already.

 

Tony saw a shadow pass his window.

 

_ No. _

 

He kicked at his door. It snapped open.

 

_ Don’t _

 

He rushed out, ignoring his mother's calls for him. And began looking for something,  _ anything _ , he could use to stop this.

 

_ “Sergeant Barnes?”  _

 

He rushed around to the other side of the car and broke a fallen tree branch over The Winter Soldier's head, he didn’t even stumble, but he let go of his father.

 

Quick as a snake he grabbed Tony's hair by the fistfull and slammed him so hard into the car window, it broke. His mother screamed for him. 

 

He grabbed a sharp piece of glass on base instinct, and as The Winter Soldier yanked him out of the car he he twisted around and jabbed it into his shoulder. He saw at full force the way his eyes darkened in anger.

 

He grabbed him tighter this time and slammed his head against the side of the car trunk. He felt his nose crack and a rush of blood come bursting out under the pressure. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from screaming. 

 

His mother was already doing that for him.

 

His foot brushed against The Winter Soldiers, when he came up, he stomped as hard as he could on it. He crashed down again.

 

His father had struggled over and was attempting to stop the attacker. The Winter Soldier kicked him away. 

 

Up.

Stomp.

Crash.

 

Up.

Stomp.

Crash.

 

Up.

Nothing. 

 

Nothing because he missed The Winter Soldiers foot and wasn’t thrown back down again.   

 

Confused, he forced his head to turn and look at his attackers face. It was blank save for the dark glint of amusement in his eyes. 

 

Stomp.

Crash.

 

This was a game to him.

 

Up. 

Stomp.

Crash.

 

Or maybe more of a general curiousity.     

 

Up.

Stomp.

Crash.

 

_ How long could he keep this up?  _

 

Up.

Stomp.

Crash.

 

Tony felt himself getting weaker, besides the bloody mess that his face had become, and it was obvious had a concussion. 

 

Up.

Stomp.

Nothing.

_ Stomp.  _

Nothing.

_ Stomp! _

Nothing. 

 

_ “Это лучшее, что вы можете сделать?”  _

 

Tony knew the “stomping” would be more accurately described as a brushing of his foot against The Winter Soldier's now, he saw the mild disappointment in the other man's eyes. He looked like he wanted to “play” a bit longer.

 

Slowly, he let Tony fall out of his grasp and crash onto the cold winter ground.

 

Tony felt the pressure of The Winter Soldier's boot as he pressed it to his neck.

 

Up.

Stomp.

_ Crack _ .

 

………………………….

 

He could still see, but he wasn’t there anymore.

 

He still saw how his parents once again died. And he had done nothing but prolong the inevitable with his own.    
  


The last thing he saw was the twisted, unholy grin that covered the winter soldier's face. And remembered Barnes words as an identical man stood gleefully over the massacre he’s created:

 

_ I remember how happy I was to kill them. _

  
  


…………………….

 

He started running the second he heard screaming.

 

He’s not sure what Tony could have been dreaming about, but it definitely wasn’t anything good. Tony had fallen asleep at his desk, and was also screaming bloody murder. 

 

 

Barnes thought that the best thing to do in the situation was to at least wake him up, and he quickly placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder gently--or as gently as he could--to try to make him wake. 

 

Tony had startled upwards faster than he could have imagined, hell, he thinks it’s the fastest he’s seen Tony move in general, ever. Which is saying something due to not only having watched him work in his lab before, but also having fought him…which is something he honestly would rather not think about at the moment. He had more important things to concern himself with. Like Tony. 

 

 

He watched as Tony's face suddenly shift from dazed and confused to what he could only describe as pure terror, and watched him scramble away, trying desperately to gain any sort of distance from...him? 

 

 

“Tony…?” He put his metal arm forwa rd on instinct, only to watch as Tony’s trembling hands fumble with his watch. His breathing heavy and erratic. 

 

A second later he was flat on his back in front of the doorway to the lab. Tony had blasted him out of the room...Tony had...attacked him? 

 

 

_ None of this makes sense _ . He thought he and Tony were friends? Or at least “friends” in a general sort of way. Definitely friends enough for him not to suddenly attack him. He doesn’t understand why Tony seems so afraid--he’s never displayed this before, at least, not about  _ him _ . 

 

He glanced to his arm, the  metal was bent out of shape, but there seemed to be nothing too wrong with it functionality wise--Why was he even worrying about that now? Tony clearly needed help much more than his arm needed maintenance right now. 

 

 

“Tony,” He stood up again, slowly, placing his hands out in front of him in an attempt to display to Tony he meant no harm. “It’s okay, I just want to help you.” 

 

 

“...Help me…?’ Tony’s brow furrowed.  

 

 

He took a small step forwards. Tony rose his gauntlet, threatening to attack. 

 

 

And that’s when Steve turned the corner.

 

 

“ _ What the Hell--Bucky!” _

 

 

Bucky flinched at the sickening  _ thud _ that sounded throughout the workshop as Steve had pinned down Tony in three seconds flat. 

 

 

Tony, apart from looking more confused than ever, took a sharp breath as he began struggling against Steve’s grasp, to no avail. He was shaking, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who noticed, or maybe even cared. Steve was infuriated, and it made him even doubt Steve noticed Tony’s reaction at all. 

 

 

“ _ Is this what you wanted, Stark? _ ” S teve was practically biting out every word. “ _ Was the only reason you “let” us back in the compound to harass Bucky?” _

 

 

He could almost swear he heard Tony wheeze out a “ _ no _ ” beneath his shaky breathes.

 

 

“Steve, that’s enou--”

 

 

“ _ Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Stark!”  _ he exclaimed. “ _ Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way he’s been acting! He hardly ever comes out of that room, and he can’t even escape from you in there! Then I turn the corner to see you--you doing this?” _

 

 

_“Steve, that’s enough!”_ He rushed back into the room and grabbed Steve by his shoulder.

 

 

_ “You sicken me, Stark.”  _ He saw Steve’s hand tighten around Tony’s wrists, the smaller man cried out in pain. “ _ And here I even wanted to give you another chance _ .”

 

_ “STEVE!” _ Bucky managed to pry Steve’s fingers from where they were fastened onto Tony's flesh. He firmly grasped both of Steves fists in his hands before throwing them back, knocking him over. “THAT. IS.  _ ENOUGH! _ ” 

 

 

Tony finally snapped to his senses. “What the Hell…? I-” He glanced down at his armor covered palm. Then back up to the damaged metal arm in front of him protectively. “Did--Did  _ I _ \--was that  _ me? _ ” he gawked at the damage.

 

 

Steve’s icy glare was focused on Tony. “Don’t act like you don’t know-you--you-- _ coward. _ ”

 

 

That was it. The last straw.

 

 

He’s just sorry it had to be from Steve.

 

 

He’s even more sorry about how satisfied he felt over the stinging of his non-metal palm after the slap connected.

 

 

“Steven. Grant. Rogers.” He was quiet, but his voice sounded of a man in a pure form of rage, maybe not as good as the Hulk, but certainly around there, he would imagine. 

 

 

He suddenly thought back to all of moments of ridicule, moments that made him doubt Tony’s integrity from before he even started talking to him, and especially after he did. Doubt that still fills his mind every now and then. How he realized that the reason he wasn’t trusting them with his secrets was because of  _ them _ and  _ their actions _ and not anything he or Tony did. The open mocking, the open criticism, the open hate.

 

 

He finally couldn’t bear it any longer, he had to say the words that had been crawling it’s way out of his throat since he was convinced,  _ purely convinced _ , that Anthony Edward Stark was  _ a good person _ .

 

 

 

“ _ Shut. The. Hell. Up.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And here I wanted to give you another chance" --fucking where Steve, WHERE? lmao this is more my fault than Steve's but my point still stands.
> 
> Honestly I'm just sorry. 
> 
> Lets see how I can fix this.
> 
> (Look at that! a long chapter! that's hasn't happened in so long!)
> 
> Steve why did I make you like this I'm sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

_“Did you ever consider for even one second that you might be the problem Steve?”_ He practically bit out the words before even thinking about them. “ _I said I’d be with you till the end of the line but you just crossed it._ ”

 

“Buck, he was literally attacking you! He--”

_“He did nothing wrong!”_

 

“He was attacking you! You…” Steve's voice grew more concerned. “You don’t think you... _deserve_ this do you?”

 

“That's a different matter entirely, we’re talking about _you_ Steve.” He gestured to where Tony, rubbing his wrist, was slowly standing up from. “What the hell is your problem with him anyway?”

 

“I don’t have a prob--”

 

_“Bullshit. Steve.”_

 

“Look, whatever I did to upset you Buck, _I’m sorry_.”

 

He gritted his teeth. _No Steve_.

 

“ _I’m not the one who needs the apology goddammit!_ ” He pointently took a step to the right, uncovering the majority of Tonys now standing body he was placed defensively in front of. Tony himself looked less and less like he wanted to be here by the second. “You just attacked him, your _teammate_ , for no good reason--which you would’ve _known_ if you had taken a second to look instead of just assuming the worst!”

 

“Buc--”

 

“ _Ste_ \--” He stopped suddenly when he felt Tony grab his non-metal arm gently.  

 

Tony was standing in a firm manner, shoulders squared, feet spread apart. it was clear to him on his first glance that Tony had not touched him for comfort, but for attention.

 

For a moment he had forgotten about the rule. And Tony had to remind him.

 

He watched, not showing any emotion on his face, as Tony made profound eye contact with Steve and in turn, him. They both watched in silence as Tony ever so slightly shook his head “ _No.”_

 

  
In that moment he understood. Tony didn’t want this. Any of it.

 

 

Tony didn’t want to be defended, By him or anyone else.

 

 

Tony wasn’t a damsel in distress. And he didn’t want an apology, _especially_ an apology wrung out by someone else.  

 

 

“Steve.” He looked away from Tony to focus on his friend. And took a deep breath.

 

“Get out.”

 

The pained expression Steve tried to hide made his heart crumple, he was unhappy with Steve, yes, but he was still his friend.

 

“We’ll talk about this later Steve, I don’t know how much later, but it’s going to happen.” He felt Tony's grip slide away from him.

 

 

“But for now, please just get out.”

 

 

……………………….

 

 

Tony immediately began inspecting the non-human arm as soon as he knew Steve was out of range. Sitting them both down, Twisting and turning it all ways, looking for any sort of damage that could possibly have occured internally. He did so without saying a word. Neither of them did as they tested out the functionality of the joints and Tony traced his fingers along the dent he had made in his panicked state.

 

He watched silently as Tony worked back and forth between him and his workbench. Grabbing scratch paper and making notes.

Tony avoided eye contact with him, whether it was out of guilt or shame or even anger was unknown to him. Tony simply kept working, only focused on the job in front of him.

 

“Tony.”

 

Tony almost seemed to back away. Then looked down at the floor. He watched as Tony squeezed his eyes shut before he placed his head in his hands. The small motion of him shaking his head “No” was not lost on the other man.

 

“Do you want me to leave?”

 

Tony pointed to his arm and shook his head again.

 

“I can have a bad arm for a few days.”

 

Tony shook his head once more.

 

“Tony…” He knew he had to ask. The one question that he desperately wanted to avoid. But the one that had to be asked.

 

“Do you not want to talk to me?”

 

 

……………………………………..

 

 

Tony could feel his own words drying up in his throat before they could reach his mouth. It’s not that he _didn’t_ want to talk to Barnes, it’s that he _couldn’t._ He wouldn’t allow himself to speak around him. And he didn’t even know why himself. He theorized several ideas.

 

Maybe he felt violated after Rogers had invaded the workshop, what had become a sort of safe-house for Tony over the years.

 

Maybe it was just an aftereffect of his dream, or nightmare, or episode or whatever he wants to call it.

 

Maybe he feels the guilt of hurting Barnes unintentionally.

 

Maybe he can’t look Barnes in the face right now because he knows the first thing he sees isn’t going to be him anymore, but The Winter Soldier.

 

 

Maybe it was all of it. Or maybe it was none of it.

 

Hell if Tony knew.

 

What Tony _did_ know was that he needed to fix up Barnes arm-or dent with an arm attached to it now.

 

Ironically, this was something that was due to come up for a while. Not the repairs, but Tony giving himself a thorough look of everything and, well, “Starkerizing” the arm. But the arm was already impressive, as it had since been replaced from the fight. Whoever had created it clearly knew what they were doing. But now that Tony had damaged it, it was going to be fixed up by him, and if anything he sees could be improved upon by him. He was going to do it.

 

He noticed that Barnes had been waiting for an answer for a few minutes now. He could practically feel the other man getting more concerned by the minute. He almost gave out a huff of amusement, but that caught in his throat too. He eyed an unused piece of scratch paper.

 

Resigned to write instead of speak, he picked up the paper and the pencil he was using to take notes. He felt betrayed by his own voice. And cursed it for ever having to force him to write down what he was going to.

 

He couldn’t look at Barnes as he held the paper up to him. He wasn’t sure whether he should hope he could remember how to read right now, or if he couldn’t.

 

_I can’t._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chuckles nervously* I'm...back? 
> 
> I just wanted to give this one more update before the New Year. Hopefully we'll not have as long as a hiatus as that ever again.
> 
> Hopefully. 
> 
> *sarcastically (starkcastically)* What a great late Christmas present, right?
> 
> (Edit: for those who want a happier winteriron story/reading until the next update. Check out "Very Funny, Mr. Stark"!)


	10. Chapter 10

The seconds that stretched out after Tony had, in what looked to him as utter defeat, lightly scrawled out those two simple words, felt like an eternity. He knew in his mind it had only been a few moments since the other man had pitfully raised the small, heart-shattering sentence for him to see, but the time in between them felt like it had to have been hours later, or days, or weeks, or months.

 

“Tony…” he breathed out, barely louder than a whisper. Tony wouldn’t look at him. He watched, completely helpless as he saw him struggle to breathe, to compose himself, in that moment. And he watched as if faded away, as Anthony Stark did what he did best. He put on a mask.

 

He watched, helplessly, as Tony turned to him, sure to make direct eye contact.

 

And smiled.

  
  


He smiled a smile that could’ve--rather--that has been, by his best guess--hiding his true emotions all his life. Disguised expertly behind a confident face and a snarky remark. Pain you could never see, unless you were looking for it.

 

Witnessing that smile first hand almost made him feel physically Ill. Even if he had shown him this exact smile before, it was a demonstration, not the real thing. The fact that Tony felt the need to hide from  _ him _ chilled him to his core and made his stomach churn. He took a few deep breaths.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered out, after it felt like exhaling wouldn’t make him vomit. “Tony I’m so, so sorry.”

 

Tony changed his expression to that of a much more somber man. He let the mask slip off, just a little. The smile changed to one that looked more like he was laughing sadly at himself. His eyes changed too, they looked so sad...and tired...as if he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in years, Hell, that’s probably true.

 

“I’m getting you out of here right now.” he spoke again before he even realized what he was saying. “I’m going to take you to your room now, ok?”

 

Tony seemed to take a moment to process what he had just said, before giving him a single weak nod in response, He started to gather all the notes he had taken, schematics for his arm, and placed them in a new file he didn’t bother to name before placing the file away.

 

“Can I touch you?” He asked as he stood, gently reaching his hand out towards Tony.

 

Tony gave him a look that seemed to say  _ Don’t patronize me _ before grasping his hand firmly and stood himself.

 

“Didn’t mean anything like that by it.” He replied to Tony's defiant gaze. Even though he noticed the other man hadn’t let go of his hand. And continued to hold on as he walked out of the lab door, that had been dented by his body earlier that night.

 

It took him a few moments before he realized he had  _ absolutely no clue  _ where Tonys room was. He  stopped at the end of the hallway opening up to a more public sitting area. He frowned.  _ Had this room always existed? _

 

Tony suddenly took the lead as he tugged his hand and suddenly directed them in the other direction. Oops.

 

Tony expertly guided them back past the lab and through a small series of hallways. That had eventually led them back to the small kitchen are where they seemed to bump into each other often. He had always chosen this place because it was so far away from everyone else, and therefore would have little to no interaction when he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, which was a frequent feeling. It made sense that Tony would come here often as well, since it is the closest kitchenette to the lab. He had a growing suspicion, as Tony only went down one more hallway from the room, that he chose to be far from everyone else as well, on purpose.

 

Tony let go of his hand as he opened the door to his own quarters. Which, in all honestly, was a lot cleaner than he expected it to be. It has a simplistic, minimalist design to it with a bed and what you could barely call a dresser in it. Which is where the majority of “mess” was as there were several small knick-knacks littered on top. Besides that one detail, the room was immaculate. He had the feeling it was because it didn’t get much use. 

Tony made a gesture into the room that appeared to say  _ welcome  _ and  _ what now? _ At the same time. 

 

“Now,” he said. “I’m going to put you in that bed and watch over you as you sleep for as long as I say”

 

Tony narrowed his gaze immediately. 

 

“Listen, I think it’s a bad idea too but I’m still going to do it.”

 

Tony's borderline glare transformed into a concerned gaze as his eyes fixated on the mess he had made of the other man's metal arm. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle myself. If worse comes to worse, I’ll just leave.”

 

Tony bit his lip but allowed him to guide him to the bed, but laid down as instructed and quickly wrapped the blanket around himself after seeing the other man grabbing for the blanket himself, giving him another defiant look barely visible in the darkness. It was very clear that this man  _ did not _ want to be babied.

 

“Alright.” He said, satisfied by the dim image in front of him. “And now you  _ go to sleep _ . Don’t think you’re going to get away with lying there all night either, I have super-hearing and  _ know  _ what people sound like when they’re asleep.” At least, he thinks he remembers what it sounds like.

 

Tony huffed, which was the most audiable thing he had done recently, and turned over away from him. He couldn’t see very much of him anymore, but he thinks they shared the same concern.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up if you start freaking out in your sleep. And I can handle myself so don’t worry about my either.”

 

He wasn’t too sure if he could see Tony nod in the darkness, or if it was just his eyes playing tricks on  him, but he sat down on the floor, back to the wall, and started his vigil.

 

…………………………………………..

 

The night was quieter in the compound then it had been in a long time. As two men, weary from the world. Both feel into a deep, peaceful slumber that night.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bucky's mom override has been activated.)
> 
> A L S O
> 
> I'm so sorry about how long the gap was in time between the last chapter and this one. This was also basically to let you all know I'm,,,,,,,,,,uh,,,,,,,,,alive.
> 
> so YAY I guess. I have no idea when the next update will be (*cough* since I usually try to get chapters out in one sitting which is why they're usually fairly short *cough*) but it is summer and I'm officially of off school so hopefully there won't be such a big gap.
> 
> also BUCKY FEEL ASLEEP TOO and he NEEDS rest but it just makes me laugh because it sounds all "ooh a watchful guardian" (which he totally intended to be) and here he is snoozing in the corner
> 
> anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this! Until next time!


End file.
